


Through a Broken Window

by grimmlin



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel Loves Dean Winchester, M/M, POV Castiel, Sad, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-07
Updated: 2018-05-07
Packaged: 2019-05-03 15:10:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14571684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grimmlin/pseuds/grimmlin
Summary: When the fighting is over, long over, Castiel stays. The Winchesters became all that is important somewhere along the way, and Cas could never leave Dean. Not even at the end. The Winchesters may be gone, but Castiel has one thing left to do before he joins them in Heaven.





	Through a Broken Window

**Author's Note:**

> So...I wrote this years ago. Before I ever posted anything. I think it was somewhere around the end of season 7? Anyways, I found it today. I had completely forgotten I ever wrote it, and had to click on that strangely titled document that made me cock my head to the side in imitation of my favorite Angel. As I read, memories flooded back and I knew I had to clean it up and post it.
> 
> This was inspired by Broken Window Serenade by Whiskey Meyers. If you haven't heard the song, look it up. It might just break your heart a little.
> 
> I wrote this when I was hurting, and looking back on it brought tears to my eyes. I hope you enjoy. As always, comments and kudos are highly welcome and appreciated.

Castiel remembers gripping Dean tight and raising him from perdition, and despite his eternal existence he can't remember a single dawn that came before. He knows there was a very special fish, a tower of dung and the discovery of coffee; but every monumental occurance he stood witness to grows hazy next to his memories of the man who changed the course of his father's creation. 

He was told to rescue the Righteous Man from the grips of Hell's pit, so he did. What all of Heaven couldn't foresee was how that rescue mission would become so much more.

Dean was beautiful, like no human to have come before, his soul shining like a beacon to the Angel even before he could see the man's face. Castiel wouldn't have been able to leave him in hell even if he hadn't been the soul he was meant to save. 

Castiel made sure there were beautiful flowers blooming around Dean's grave, flowers fluent in an unspeakable language that even a being as ancient as Castiel could barely comprehend. Humans spent over a millenia studying and identifying the language of flowers. Castiel knows. Castiel was there. He carefully selected the most perfect blossoms, but Dean didn't notice. No, flowers were not of import when his sudden ressurection was a mystery to the man. Dean hadn't spared Castiel's monument a second glance. And yet, Castiel didn't mind.

What Dean had noticed, was Castiel's handprint. An indelible mark that will withstand the test of time, never allowing Dean to forget about the Angel. Castiel watched calmly but attentively as Dean emerged from his grave, wild eyed and terrified. Confused and disbelieving. Castiel watched, gaining a different point of view.

Castiel remembers learning how broken the Righteous man was. He drank too much, trying to forget the horrors he had seen, the horrors he had committed. His green eyes would grow dull and his expression blank when he finally managed to drink away his pain, his guilt. Castiel drank an entire liquor store to try and understand his point of view. When Castiel lost all hope on the broken road he was learning to follow, he followed Dean's example. Again and again. 

Castiel remembers watching helplessly as the world fell apart. As each disaster unfolded, the next more terrible than the last. He remembers watching Dean and his brother try and try and try to save it. He remembers watching until he couldn't watch anymore. Until he chose free will. Until he joined the Winchesters in their epic fight to save humanity and stood against all he had ever known to be true.

Castiel was drawn to his Righteous man like a moth to a flame. He couldn't stay away, no matter what horrors his sister inflicted upon him. No matter how many times she forced him to kill avatars of Dean, he would always remember. His heart belonged to Dean. Castiel stood against his brothers for Dean, Castiel died for Dean. Again and again. 

But through all that, Castiel could never find the words to make Dean understand. 

Castiel followed Dean beyond the ends of the Earth. His father brought him back more than once, but even God couldn't bring him back from purgatory. He would follow his hunter anywhere. Castiel fell for Dean, in more ways than one and Castiel wanted to stay behind for Dean too. He loved Dean so much that he didn't feel that he was worthy to be on the same plane as his beautifully broken hunter.

Angels aren't supposed to love humans. Castiel knew he had nothing he could offer Dean. Nothing Castiel could do would change the world so that they could be together. He knows, he  _tried_. And it always ended in disaster. Castiel feels Dean's pain, will always feel Dean's pain. Long after the man is gone.

Castiel tried to become more for Dean. He tried to become God. He tried to fix everything. He was going to be so much more than a fallen Angel. He was going to make Dean proud. All of his plans failed. His only success was finally getting Dean to love him back. It was more than expected.

For a time, Castiel gave Dean up. He swore he would let the man be happy. Have a family. But even he could see that Dean was barely hanging on. Dean had what the Winchester's always called the "Apple Pie Life" with Lisa and the child. And Dean hated it. Every time the Angel would drop in to check on Dean, he found the man to be more sunken. Somehow less. Seeing this nearly killed Castiel, nearly made him break and make his presence known. Sometimes, Castiel thought that maybe Dean could feel him. But he knows now, that he was wrong.

Castiel watched Dean drown his sorrows, drink until he couldn't drink anymore. Dean wanted to die. And Castiel did not understand. He couldn't see Dean's point of view, his battle with his depression and darkness. He begged Dean to see. To see how much Castiel cared. How much the Angel loved him.

Castiel bore witness to Dean growing old. He bore witness to Dean making deals to save his brother and even making deals to save his Angel. He saw the laughter Dean put forth, and Castiel saw that if he didn't laugh, he would fracture into tears. Castiel watched with a broken heart as he stood by Dean's side through the years. Through one nearly missed apocalypse after another, never wavering. Never giving up. He could never leave Dean, but seeing his hunter fade hurt him more than any Angel should ever be able to hurt. He saw Dean as no one else could.

It was raining the day Dean finally gave in. Dean had watched his brother go, and felt no reason to stay any longer. Castiel knew. He understood. No matter how much he loved Dean, no matter how much Dean loved Castiel. Castiel would never be enough to keep him. Castiel watched with tears clouding his blue eyes, still stuck looking young despite the decades that have passed. Dean took his last breath, "Cass" being the last word whispered when the hunter exhaled for the last time. Cas held tight to his hunter's hand, drawing away as much pain as he could. Holding him close and still not letting go. Dean's soul shone bright as ever as it left his body and was led away. Castiel stayed behind, still holding his hunter's hand with watery eyes. 

That was yesterday.

No one else is left. No one left from before who might remember what Dean had meant to the world. Castiel slowly builds a pyre. He builds it by hand, painstakingly through his tears. His righteous man is gone from Earth, Castiel's only reason for being on this planet is now gone. Dean has joined his brother in their heaven. Castiel has to do this one last thing, for Dean, before he leaves. He carefully wraps Dean's body and carries him to his pyre. Castiel knows that this is what Dean would want. A hunter's funeral. No coming back this time. How different would things have been if Sam had done this for Dean the first time? If there were no bones for Castiel to rebuild his hunter from? 

Castiel stands, heart heavy and feeling a pain that he cannot begin to understand. Grief. The loss of a friend, the loss of unrequited love. The loss of a part of him. He knows, Dean is waiting for him in heaven. He knows this, but it does nothing to quell the pain. The closing of an era. The most important era in Castiel's long existence. From the moment Castiel laid eyes on that bright and shining soul in the darkest pits of hell, he knew that he could never be the same. Nothing could ever be the same.

The Angel built Dean's pyre on top of the grave the Sam had dug for Dean so many years ago. It had long ago been forgotten by the Winchesters, but not by Castiel. Never by Castiel. The flowers that he created all those years ago have grown and spread. The most perfect roses, blooming now in wide swaths or reds and yellows. Dean never knew.

Castiel carefully bends to clip a crimson rose from its stalk. The thorns cut deep into his hand, but the Angel doesn't mind the pain. He holds the tender flower for a moment, closing his eyes and remembering every laugh and every smile he saw from his beautiful righteous man in the time they shared. A single tear escapes from those cerulean eyes, running down his face and dripping heavily onto the rose. 

Castiel carefully places the already wilting blossom across Dean's chest. Finally whispering the three little words he held back for so long.  _I love you._  Those three little words are nothing new, but the emotion behind them is one that he never dared allow Dean to see. Every single hug, every single time Castiel said the man's name; it was with an emotion that Angels were never meant to experience. There will never be a more beautiful word to Castiel than  _Dean._

 Now, as Castiel lights his match and sets it to the tinder lining the pyre, his heart ignites in an unfamiliar and overwhelming pain. He stands watch as the shroud covering his hunter burns away and he waits until there is nothing left but smoldering ash scattering in the gentle breeze. The sweet-smelling roses sway in the field, seeming to mourn the loss of a man who never noticed their carefully planned existence. Castiel can only ever again see the world through a broken window, with a different point of view. 


End file.
